End of the Storm
by Mentality at its Worst
Summary: Phoenix and Mia have a chat after an incident that happened earlier at the office that day. Dedicated to Michael Fri of Black Scepter.


Wow. Okay, sorry guys--my author notes didn't make it in here when I uploaded this for...I don't know _what_ reason, but my document was saved? Sorry. As I had said before (and you guys didn't see it)--there is no real particular reason for this fic besides I've had some things happen and I've had needed to say something to a friend of mine because he and his family have all been so sweet to me. However, I didn't when I should have and something else kind of came up...so now I'm, in a way, trying to incorporate both messages in this?

...You know what, just read it.

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**End of the Storm**

"_But__**why**__?!" he yelled, slamming his hands hard enough on the desk to send a few pencils rolling off the edge. She looked offended now, a twisting lip and slight-twitching eyebrow showed it._

"_I don't know what you're so upset about—I'm just fine," her voice was calm, however loud._

Right now he stood outside, staring at the door, unsure of whether he should bravely grasp the knob and venture back inside. He could still feel his face immensely burning with guilt, and fear and worry managed to keep him stationary, but whether he liked that or not he was uncertain.

He wanted to go in and say something, he wanted to go back and hope that she did not have any choice words for him.

"_Never mind!"_

"_Wright!"_

_She had leaped out of her chair only in time to see him slam the door to the Fey & Co. offices on his way out._

Somehow, his hand managed to find its way to the round metal knob, and it took forever to turn, all the while being as loud and squeaky as it cared to be. He swallowed whatever saliva was left in his nearly dry mouth and as he edged the door open, he leaned his body in through the doorway.

He could not hear anything; the radio was even shut off. Had she left? He would not have blamed her if she did. He slowly and quietly slipped closer to her office, feeling almost an eerie presence as he did so.

And he found her there, silent, still sitting at her desk, focused hard on the pile of paperwork before her. He stood there for a moment, watching as she kept her head down, flipping through files, writing notes, and tapping the end of her pen on her notepad like she usually did when something did not 'add up'. He managed to move to almost the centre of the room, knowing full well by now that she knew he was there, but yet a strong and uncomfortable silence was shared between them. He continued watching her, desperately trying to find something to say (if he should have been saying anything at all). Almost instinctively, when she gave a small sigh, he immediately opened his mouth with the only thing he could think of saying.

"Chief…"

Her note-taking and paper-flipping did not cease, though she slightly raised her head as she kept her eyes focused on her work, still.

"Is it nice out there?" she asked, her voice calm and more neutral than he was expecting, which kind of scared him at the time.

Lowering his head, he stuck his hands in his pockets and tried to keep control of his shaking voice as he replied, "Well…y-yes, it is."

He heard the 'thunk' of a few small objects, and he turned his head upward to see that she had closed some of her folders and set her writing implements down. Her dark brown eyes shone through some strands of the brown hair that covered them, and he thought he saw a slight smile as she rose from her desk and said, "I think we should go for a walk."

He nodded as she threw on her overcoat and leisurely walked toward the building entrance, and together they stepped out into the streets, heading in no particular direction.

"Phoenix…" she started, almost a little too quickly for him. It must have scared him enough that he jumped into explanations right away.

"Chief, I-I'm sorry! I really am, I don't know what I was…" but before he could continue, she waved her finger in front of his face to silence him. He felt a stabbing pain in the pit of his stomach as she did so, but that feeling soon turned into a sickening confusion as he looked at her to see that she was _smiling_.

"Phoenix," she started again, her voice assertive, yet with its usual 'pressing' feel, "how many times have I told you that a lawyer is someone who is always smiling when things are looking grim? Why is that?"

What kind of a question was that? He hesitated to answer a moment, not sure where she was going with this, but tried to keep from losing his voice again.

"Because…our clients need help, and they put their lives in our hands because they…believe we can help them."

"And we want to keep them assured that they've made the right choice," Mia added calmly, "because no one feels like something is worth anything if they don't have the support to help them get through the troubles they need to go through."

"Chief," Phoenix interrupted, "mind if I ask just…where are you going with this?"

"You'll see," she replied simply, and then, "was there something you were trying to say to me earlier?"

He felt his head go hot as he remembered the scene in the office only a couple of hours ago. He took a shaky breath as he answered her.

"N-nothing—I mean, no, it's…I was just going to say that I was sorry for what I said. I didn't mean to get so…I just worry about you sometimes, is all." There, he said it. He felt like fainting when she looked up at him with wide eyes, stopped in her tracks.

"What ever for? Phoenix, I know there have been some things that have happened to me, and some things that I did in the past…but I don't see why you need to dwell on them right now when they've been put away already."

"L-like I said, I'm very sorry, Chief…I didn't mean to…I can't help it. I'm sorry."

He felt his hand be grabbed by hers, and she pulled him back in the direction of the office, again giving off her warm smile to him.

"When a client needs a friend to help, we lawyers become those friends. It's natural for friends to worry, too, but the most important thing is that they help each other," she looked back up at him, her eyes dancing happily, "sometimes, worrying is too much. We can't worry about our clients because we won't help them or ourselves at all—if we provide the support that we should, we help in all different degrees, right?"

He was quiet for a moment as he thought about it, and before they walked up to the door of Fey & Co. again, he squeezed her hand, smiling and feeling more light-hearted himself.

"Yeah…I guess that's true, Chief…"

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And that is the end. Um...yeah, just review and that'll be awesome--no, you never actually find out what their argument was about because...dude, it's not important. 


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